


Corrosive Reconciliation

by hid4n



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hid4n/pseuds/hid4n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A commission for Ohira and Onishi's first kiss! Not much to say about it – thank goodness for Kakei. (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Corrosive Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for Ohira and Onishi's first kiss! Not much to say about it – thank goodness for Kakei. (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

“How many times do I need to tell you two? Don’t call me ‘sensei!’ I’m not any older than you.”

Kakei raised a hand to his forehead, swiping his bangs away from his damp forehead while letting out a marginally irritated sigh. The gentle breeze that ruffled his dark hair and chilled his sweat-soaked skin did little to take away from his budding frustration.

Taking a deep breath to comply with his aching lungs, Kakei looked around himself. As usual, Ohira and Onishi were near him – a recipe for disaster, seeing as the two were within earshot of each other. Kobanzame was near the bench, chatting idly with Otohime – she must have came to ask him something – while sipping from his water bottle with a content expression. Turning, Kakei saw Mizumachi, who was standing off to the side, a finger stuck in his ear while he watched the birds busily comb the length of the field for bugs to eat. He was about to say something disapproving, as he had many times before about Mizumachi sticking things in his ears, but he was interrupted by a loud voice behind him.

“But you _are_ my sensei, Kakei-sensei! If we’re comparing skill, you’re surely on par with a teacher,” Ohira yelled in defiance, his bottom lip already quivering slightly from the threatening argument. He had taken off his helmet and was holding it at his side, matted hair sticking to his face and forehead as he looked to Kakei. Not surprisingly, his eyes were prickling with tears, although none had fallen yet. _Yet._ Kakei set his jaw and took a deep breath, unsure of how to approach the situation now that Ohira was teetering on the edge for what felt like the millionth time.

“Yes, but I was his first disciple—” Onishi started coolly, as if his intentions laid with the goal of diffusing the situation. _Unfortunately..._

“Why do you have to undermine everything I say?” The tears had started to freely trickle down Ohira’s cheeks now, mixing with his sweat and soaking into the collar of his jersey. His voice was trembling, dark eyes fixated on Onishi, who hadn’t removed his helmet yet. There was a collective sigh from the entire group, regrettably only adding fuel to the fire. Ohira’s face was damp with tears in a matter of seconds, and while there was still over an hour of practice left, Kakei grimaced and stepped forward, awkwardly offering a comforting hand.

Onishi scoffed loudly, turning to yank off his helmet and walk towards the bench. He was raising his hand in greeting to Kobanzame when Kakei turned away from him, redirecting his attention back to Ohira.

“It’s okay, alright? Just calm down. You know we can’t continue practice when you’re… doing this…” Kakei wasn’t the best at comforting people, and they both knew it, so his loss for words wasn’t exceptionally awkward. “You and Onishi are always arguing. Why can’t you come to some sort of closure?”

“Yeah, we’re all tired of it!” From a ways off, Mizumachi had taken off most of his clothes and had flopped onto his back, tilting his head up to stare at Kakei and Ohira. His eccentric behavior and rude comments didn’t stop, even in the most inappropriate situations…

“Mizumachi!” Kakei said loudly, his harsh tone scolding him for his unnecessary input.

“Whaaaat? We’re all thinking it, aren’t we?” The pair watched Mizumachi vault himself forward, landing on his hands and feet; without pausing, he got into his diving position in a single, smooth motion and did a somersault, landing on his rear with a dull _thump_.

Kakei lightly bit at the inside of his cheek and turned back to Ohira, offering a slightly apologetic look. “Ignore him, you know he’s—”

“No,” Ohira interrupted, his voice steadier than before. “He’s not wrong. I shouldn’t let Onishi taunt me like that.”

Surprised, Kakei raised his eyebrows and looked from the preoccupied Mizumachi to Ohira, who seemed to be lit anew with a burning determination that Kakei wasn’t sure he had seen in the lineman before. He dropped his hand away from his teammate and readjusted his collar purposefully.

“... That’s right. He’s just.. trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him, Ohira. You’re better than that.”

“Kakei-sensei! I’m so happy you said that—saying I’m better than that! I’ll do my best not to disappoint you,” Ohira beamed for a moment, his entire face lighting up in pride. Much to Kakei’s chagrin though, it was short-lived, and Ohira broke down in tears again, apparently excited by Kakei’s words. _Patience, patience…_ Lifting his hand to pat Ohira on the shoulder once more, Kakei let the corner of his lips lift in a gentle – albeit slightly forced – smile while he recollected himself. After a moment of silent comforting, he turned to leave, intentions now lying with Onishi.

When Kakei raised his head, Kobanzame was gone. He must have left with Otohime to refill his water bottle, since that was also missing from the bench. Onishi was perched on the edge, staring off into the distance with his own bottle half-heartedly pressed to his lips. He seemed distracted, so Kakei approached slowly, not wanting to startle him.

Once he was within a reasonable distance, Kakei called out, voice gentle in case it would become another situation similar to the one with Ohira. “Onishi? You okay?”

The blond didn’t answer at first, but he lowered his water bottle from his mouth and eventually turned to make eye contact with Kakei, blue eyes crystal clear. _Whew._ Kakei felt a wave of relief wash over him. Of course Onishi would be calm – it wasn’t like he and Ohira were comparable at all when it came to their emotional threshold.

“Kakei-sensei,” He greeted, his voice calm and collected. It seemed like the scuffle with Ohira hadn’t bothered him at all. Cautious to believe that, though, Kakei sat himself down on the bench, giving Onishi enough room to breathe while still posing himself in a delicate fashion to suggest his concern. “Of course I’m okay… Did you need something from me?”

Kakei quirked an eyebrow, looking Onishi up and down. It wasn’t abnormal for the shorter of the two to be fine while Ohira was bawling his eyes out – that was just within the makeup of their personalities – but Kakei couldn’t find any harm in checking on both of them after their regretfully frequent arguments.

“No, I just wanted to check on you really quick,” He started, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders. “You and Ohira just had that fight, so I—” Onishi’s mouth opened as if to say something, and Kakei paused, but the other closed his mouth, waiting patiently for him to finish. “... So I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

The air was quiet between them for a few moments, but eventually Onishi turned to look at Kakei face-to-face. He didn’t flinch under Kakei’s gaze, and that was something that he could respect – many people had a tendency to shrivel away from what had been called his ‘intense eyes,’ but Onishi always politely kept eye contact when it was made.

“Yes, everything is fine. Ohira’s blubbering doesn’t bother me any. We both know who was your first disciple – he just cries because he knows its me.” Onishi crossed his arms over his chest and looked out over the field. He seemed sure of himself, as usual. _Nothing to worry about, then, I suppose…_ Kakei tilted his head and glanced over at Ohira, who had shuffled over to where Mizumachi was sitting and was now talking energetically.

Expressionless, Kakei turned back to Onishi. “I’ll talk to Kobanzame about it, but—I want you two to make up. We’ll cancel the rest of practice, but I’m not letting you guys off the field until you reach some sort of ultimatum.”

Onishi made a face like he was about to protest, but when Kakei looked at him sternly, he paused, nodding silently.

“Good. The next time I see you two, you better be – at the _very_ least – tolerating the existence of each other.”

Kakei got up, hearing the bench creak under the strain of his shifting weight, and left Onishi to his thoughts. When he directed his attention to the middle of the field once more, he noticed that both Mizumachi and Ohira were gone. _He must have went to the locker room to calm down._ Kakei sighed quietly, wandering off to find Mizumachi. _I hope they kiss and make up soon – before any more damage is done._

 

* * *

 

Ohira leaned his weight into the door of his locker and heard the satisfying click of the lock falling into place. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he tried to collect himself. He had gotten upset again – taunted, once more, by Onishi – and Kakei was put in a bad situation. It was embarrassing in a way, but he tried not to be bothered by it, since Kakei surely didn’t think badly of him. _Kakei-sensei is too kind for that. He knows how stressful life can be at times…_ Soothing himself with thoughts of his beloved idol, Ohira pushed away from the cool metal of his locker. 

The familiar squeak of the locker room door being open drew his attention up from the floor. The moment he saw who was entering the quiet building, he felt his self-assured mood drop.

With an aloof expression, Onishi stood in the doorway, a poorly arrogant quality about him. From behind, the dying light of the setting sun was casting his shadow into the still room, causing a grotesque figure to weakly fall at Ohira's feet. Immediately feeling ice run through his veins, Ohira straightened up, his dark eyes meeting Onishi’s cold blue ones. It was almost a physical clash, and just as jarring, but neither of the Kyoshin linebackers looked away. The brittle silence between them drew out uncomfortably until Onishi sighed and looked to the side, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Do you have a minute, Ohira?” An incredibly disinterested voice disturbed the lull, cutting through it easily. Pressing a hand against the locker behind him, Ohira raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, earning him another sigh from Onishi. “I need to speak to you.”

“What?” Ohira responded brusquely, pulling his lips into a thin line. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for more of Onishi’s taunting, but he braced himself, prepared for the worst.

Another heavy silence stretched between them, painfully delicate. Onishi raised the same hand he used to push his glasses up and massaged the bridge of his nose. _Of course this wouldn’t be easy – it’s Ohira that I’m dealing with, after all..._ Sucking at the inside of his cheek to try and ease his building irritation and smooth the waters that had already begun to rock the boat, Onishi took a few steps into the room. “Kakei-sensei asked me to talk to you – he doesn’t like seeing us argue.”

Ohira stared at his teammate. “Why didn’t Kakei-sensei say anything to me?”

“Who knows?” Onishi shrugged nonchalantly. After a moment, a lazy smirk crept across his face. “Maybe he figured he should ask me first because he knew his first disciple would be sure to get the job done.”

More effective than any physical blow Onishi could have inflicted on Ohira, the words left the latter stunned. While he registered them, Onishi shifted away from the doorway and glided over to his locker, opening it with the loud clack of his lock disengaging.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Hissing lowly, Ohira jerked to face Onishi. It had taken a prolonged moment, but when he realized what Onishi was implying, the bridge of his nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed in malevolence. “You think you’re so great, strutting around like you’re more important to Kakei-sensei, but you’re really not.”

“Says you,” Onishi retorted, his hands shifting around items in his locker while he feigned disinterest in their conversation. There was no real reason for him to be frightened by Ohira’s sudden anger – neither their height nor weight differed much, so it’d be a fair fight if it ultimately came down to that. “I don’t need your permission to say I’m important, you know.” His voice was quiet, calm – much calmer than Ohira’s – and, most of all, dismissive. There was a sudden clatter, followed by a quiet grunt of irritation from Onishi, who leaned forward to pick up whatever had been knocked over in the back of his locker.

“You can’t just ignore me right now, Onishi, I won’t let you.”

If Ohira was expecting a reply, he was disappointed by the stagnant silence that continued to bridge between them. Half of Onishi’s arm had disappeared into his locker, while the quiet scrape of items being rearranged continued to sounded from the back of the metallic container. Being ignored by Onishi left a gross taste in the back of Ohira’s throat, making him want to vomit. _Who the fuck does he think he is?_ Scoffing quietly, Ohira let his eyes flicker down, giving Onishi a resentful once-over. _How can he think he’s Kakei-sensei’s first disciple? He’s wrong— he’s_ wrong _! That title belongs to me, only me, and every time he disregards me, I—_

Ohira ground his teeth together, eyes narrowing to near-slits as he glared at the other linebacker, who was still busying himself with the organization of his locker. After an instantaneous decision, he reached out to grab Onishi’s elbow, fingers digging into the crook of Onishi’s arm. Throwing his weight into a violent tug, Ohira let out a threatening snarl of contempt, drawing close.

In hindsight, he probably should have been more careful. There were only so many things that could have happened when he yanked on Onishi’s arm and leaned in to growl in his face. Unfortunately for Ohira, he wasn’t exactly considering the outcomes when he shoved himself forward.

_Warm._

Warm and – dark. A comforting blanket settling over his shoulders and wrapping around his exhausted muscles, all in the form of an accidental kiss. An accidental kiss that lasted way longer than it should have, dragging on indefinitely as Ohira grew hyper aware of the rapidly increasing pace of his heartbeat, the warmth spreading across his cheeks, the weakness in his knees; or how his thumb dug into the crease of Onishi’s elbow, how he could feel Onishi’s teeth behind his soft lips, how his hand rose to ghost against the side of Onishi’s face.

Onishi’s elbow. Onishi’s teeth. Onishi’s face. Onishi’s kiss.

_Onishi._

The amenity of their exchange was brief, crumbling rapidly when Ohira’s eyelids fluttered open and he peered through dark eyelashes, eyes focusing on the far too close face of his partner. Immediately jerking away in surprise, Ohira opened his mouth and sputtered frantically, trying to find the words he needed to say.

“O-Onishi, I– I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Eyes wide with the realization of what he had just done, Ohira raised his palms in apology and backed away slightly. Too caught up in what had just happened, he hadn’t noticed his surroundings and ended up stumbling over a discarded helmet behind him. The clatter of objects being knocked over as he caught the edge of a bench and held himself upright almost drowned out Onishi’s quiet voice – but not quite.

“... Do that again.”

Ohira awkwardly steadied himself and stared at figure before him. His chest hurt – he had been holding his breath without even realizing it – and his vision seemed to waver slightly. _Shit! Don’t cry now…!_ Taking a shallow breath in an attempt to calm his nerves, Ohira opened his mouth slightly. “W-what did you say?”

Looking back with a vacant look on his face, Onishi seemed unperturbed by what had just happened. One hand was gripping his upper arm, a lost air about him despite his deadpan expression. “I said… do that again…” His eyes darted downward, as if ashamed of his words, but they were back up in a moment, locking onto Ohira’s. They didn’t look ashamed – Ohira could have sworn that he saw a challenge in the simmering pool of Onishi’s blue eyes.

“I…” Ohira straightened up and started to say something, but stopped in favor of stepping forward.

It felt as natural as anything else, and perhaps that was the scariest part for Ohira. In a sweeping, fluid motion, he held Onishi by the shoulders with a newfound urgency, leaning in to carefully brush their lips together. A gentle, hesitant kiss; it was sickly sweet with the silent sigh that accompanied it, the waters being tested with their unsure movements. There was nothing mechanical about it, a human quality present even when Ohira’s hand slid up to tilt Onishi’s chin up, deepening the kiss.

Maybe that was a mistake in hindsight, too – at least, it became one when the door behind them banged open, a crashing sound jerking Ohira to his senses.

Turning to the sound, his cheeks flushed and his arms still tightly embracing his teammate, Ohira couldn’t help the deer in the headlights look when he saw Mizumachi staring directly at them.

“Oooh…” He trilled, staring wide-eyed at the couple next to the lockers. “Kakeeeei? I think I interrupted something in here.” Turning his surprised expression into one of glee, Mizumachi turned to grab something off the table across the room. Ohira noticed the light green color of his teammate’s mobile phone flash between thin fingers before he looked back up at Mizumachi’s smug face.

_… Fuck._

Ohira turned to glance at Onishi, who was busy wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He had already successfully erased any evidence of what they had done from his face, resorting back to his default expression. Bitterly, Ohira remembered thinking how absolutely _flattering_ it was to see his deadpan look right before Kakei walked into the locker room.

“What is it?” The recognizable sound of Kakei’s voice could be heard clearly before he appeared in the doorway, unplagued by the knowledge of what Mizumachi had just seen. His arresting eyes immediately found swimmer to the left, waiting for an explanation.

As if on cue, both Ohira and Onishi looked to Mizumachi, who was busy trying to touch his tongue to his elbow. When all the attention in the room was directed to him, he looked up, lowering his arm slowly. “Huh? … Oh, yeah! You wouldn’t guess who I caught making out in here when I came in—!” Mizumachi raised his arms and crossed them over his face, making crude kissing sounds as he acted out a simplistic example for Kakei.

Silence. Painful, painful silence. After a handful of unbearable moments, Kakei turned to look at pair near the lockers, his eyes as piercing as usual.

“... Oh?”

The pause was much shorter this time, but still present. Mizumachi had lost interest in the conversation altogether and turned to leave the building, peering at his phone curiously.

“... In my defense, it was nothing like how Mizumachi suggested.” Onishi stated simply, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Dismayed by the unrefined aspect of his words, Ohira glanced from him to Kakei, the familiar prickling sensation starting in his tear ducts. He could feel Kakei looking at him, waiting for some kind of answer, but he couldn’t bring himself to confirm or deny it, and with one last sniffle, he broke down in tears.

With the fragile atmosphere of the room broken by Ohira’s wails of dissatisfaction, Kakei closed his eyes slowly and turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose while walking out of the building.

_When I had hoped they would ‘kiss and make up,’ that wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but…_

A gentle breeze brushed against Kakei’s cheeks as he slipped out of the building, shoving his hands in his pockets with a reluctant sigh.

“It’s a start.”


End file.
